


Sticky messes

by LeeJean



Series: Shameless: Mickey & Ian Gap Fillers [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, First Times, Fruit, Gap Filler, Internalized Homophobia, Kash and Grab (Shameless US), M/M, Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:07:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28058157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeJean/pseuds/LeeJean
Summary: Takes place season 2 episode 6, directly after Lip’s fruit throwing tantrum at the Kash and Grab.“They sit out back with the rolling door open, letting the slight breeze blow in.  Mickey lights a smoke, takes a long pull, then passes it over to Ian.  Ian’s got his own pack in his pocket, but he accepts Mickey’s cigarette gladly, happy for this bit of intimacy, however small.”
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Shameless: Mickey & Ian Gap Fillers [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022445
Comments: 15
Kudos: 112





	Sticky messes

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read

“My brother is a fucking asshole,” Ian says into the decrepit rotary phone at the Kash and Grab.He wishes he could afford his own mobile.It would make getting in touch with Mickey so much easier.Not that Mickey ever has one number for very long; he typically gets a new burner phone about the same time as Ian commits the current number to memory.

Mickey snorts. The connection is kinda staticky, but Ian can picture Mickey’s little smirk and raised eyebrows.“Yeah, no shit Firecrotch.You just figuring that out?”

“Guess not,” Ian says with a sigh. 

“Something besides the West Point shit?” Mickey asks, and Ian’s chest tightens, because he remembered.Mickey was listening, and he remembered.

“He stopped by the store to be a pretentious prick while pretending nothing was wrong between us, or that it’s all my fault.Made a fucking mess.He smashed a god damned watermelon on the floor, Mick.”

Mickey lets out a little chuckle that causes Ian’s heart to race.“Whatta douche.”There’s a pause, and Ian thinks he better get going before Linda starts screaming through the monitor when Mickey says, “I ain’t doing shit right now.Want me to swing by and watch the till while you clean up?”

“Heaven fucking forbid Mickey Milkovich had to clean up after anyone,” Ian says with a wide smile.“But yeah, that’d be great.I’d like that.”

“Christ, Gallagher.You’re such a fucking girl,” Mickey says, and cuts the call off.

———

Mickey barrels through the door and behind the counter about ten minutes later.Ian’s already got windex, paper towel, and a bucket of mop water ready to go, but instead of stopping at the register, Mickey grabs the ‘back in 5 mins’ sign from the shelf and struts back over to the entrance.He tapes it outside and clicks the lock shut.“C’mon, this shit can wait.Let’s go have a smoke.”

They sit out back with the rolling door open, letting the slight breeze blow in.Mickey lights a smoke, takes a long pull, then passes it over to Ian.Ian’s got his own pack in his pocket, but he accepts Mickey’s cigarette gladly, happy for this bit of intimacy, however small. 

“My ma used to give us watermelon in the summer, as a treat,” Mickey says.Ian glances over at him, but Mickey’s eyes remain firmly on the floor.“Haven’t had any in ages.No one buys fucking fruit at our place anymore.”

“Fiona’s big on us getting fruits and veggies in our diet,” Ian says.He shakes his head, realizing just how dorky he sounds.“When we can afford it, that is.”

“Yeah,” Mickey says, sort of soft.“Fuck Lip for wasting that fruit.Stuff doesn’t grow on trees.”

“Well...” Ian says, looking at Mickey with a wide smile.

“Oh, fuck.Yeah,” Mickey says, “I guess it does.”

Ian reaches out and gives Mickey’s shoulder a playful shove.“Not watermelons though.Can you imagine?That would be a hazard come harvest time.”

“I’d like to see a watermelon fall on Lip’s fat fucking head,” Mickey says, as he shoves Ian back, then leans in and grabs him in a headlock.“What do you think of that, tough guy?”

Ian’s laughing and pushing at Mickey’s chest with his hands.His struggles are half-hearted at best - he’s really just using the wrestling as an excuse to paw at Mickey’s body.It’s the most physical contact they’ve had, besides fucking, when Ian mostly keeps his hands on Mickey’s hips or shoulders as he plows into him from behind. 

Mickey’s really bulked up from working out in Juvie.His muscles feel hard and tight beneath Ian’s hands.He takes a chance, smooths his palm over Mickey’s chest, cupping his pec for a second, before running his hand down Mickey’s bicep and grabbing his forearm.Mickey goes still, binding headlock forgotten, and Ian uses the lapse to gain the upper hand.He wrenches his head up and dives at Mickey, catching the other boy off guard.Mickey’s bottle of beer spills at his feet as Ian knocks into him, driving them both to the floor. 

Ian straddles Mickey’s waist and pins down his shoulders.He expects Mickey to fight back, try to buck him off, but the boy lies docile beneath him.He gazes up at Ian, an unreadable look in his eyes, and slowly licks his lips.Ian bites his bottom lip as all the blood in his body rushes straight to his groin.Having a pliant Mickey Milkovich stretched out underneath him is a fantasy come to life. 

The moment stretches out for what seems like forever, until Ian hears frantic banging on the glass door at the front of the shop.“Fuck!”He jumps up, extending his hand down toMickey.There is only a slight hesitation before Mickey sits up, grabs Ian’s hand, and lets himself be pulled back to his feet.“I gotta open back up, and get the store cleaned. That watermelon’s probably drying into a sticky fucking mess right now.”

“We’ve made stickier messes in here,” Mickey says as he walks by Ian, headed to the front.He throws Ian a dirty grin over his shoulder.Ian’s stomach clenches into a knot of desire.He can’t believe Mickey’s joking about them hooking up!He barely acknowledges when it’s actually happening.“Hurry up, slow poke.I ain’t cleaning up after your fucking shithead brother.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ian grumbles, trying to hide a smirk.It’s so fucking weird how Mickey makes even the most boring, tedious things enjoyable.

———

Mickey works the register while Ian scoops up the watermelon and mops the floor free of crushed produce.After a short rush of customers, they are alone in the store again.Mickey grabs the paper towel and moves to the door, rubbing at the smashed tomato unenthusiastically. Ian shakes his head and heads over with a bottle of windex.He sprays the door down, then makes a ‘carry on’ motion at Mickey.He gets a scowl and middle finger in reply.

“Gonna be harder for us to see each other in a few days,” Mickey says, his back turned to Ian.

It’s something Ian’s thought about a lot, actually.How fucking amazing this summer has been, working with Mickey, banging in the store, meeting after hours at secret places to drink beer and smoke weed and fuck like rabbits.And how once school starts, things will get so much harder. He’ll have class, and ROTC, and a work schedule that doesn’t align with Mickey’s at all. 

“I think I’ll have early morning study group,” Ian says nonchalantly.

“What?” Mickey exclaims, whipping around to face Ian.“You gonna get involved in more shit?”

Ian smiles. “Linda’s having you open the store once school starts, right?”Mickey nods his head.“Yeah, I figured I’d stop by sometimes for extra tutoring.See what you can teach me.”

Ian expects Mickey to make a raunchy joke, or dirty innuendo.He does not expect Mickey to open and close his mouth while his pale cheeks flush light pink.He does not expect Mickey to drop his head, almost shyly, and say, “got it all planned out, hey Gallagher?”

“That ok with you?” Ian asks.

“What the fuck ever,” Mickey says, still looking down.He grabs a chocolate bar off the rack in front of him and grins, finally looking up at Ian.“I should take this for my troubles today, huh?Since I’m not getting paid for all my hard work and labour.”

Ian snorts and shakes his head.“Sure, Mick.It took a lot of effort to smear tomato all over the window.”

Mickey’s grin widens around his bite of chocolate.“So, see you around?”

“I gotta work a split shift today,” Ian says, like Mickey’s not well aware of his schedule by now.“I’m off at ten.”

Mickey walks out of the shop without another word or backwards glance, but Ian’s not worried.He’ll be there when Ian locks up, leaning against the bricks, smoking and acting like it’s all some big coincidence that they’ve run into each other. 

———

Ian’s backpack is weighing him down, cutting into his shoulders and sticking to his sweaty back as he follows Mickey through the neighbourhood.He hopes they get to their destination soon.He’s spent a lot of hours replaying the image of Mickey sprawled beneath him, lax and vulnerable.Ian doubts that he’ll get a repeat performance tonight, but it seems like his dick has been at half mast for hours, and he definitely needs to blow off some steam.

They reach a small park that Ian remembers frequenting as a child.It’s run down now, the playground equipment worn and broken.A place for junkies and hobos to gather, instead of the children it was intended for.Luckily, they’ve got the place to themselves.Mickey leads Ian to an intact picnic table and hops up.He pulls a baggie out of his pocket and grabs a joint, lighting it and then passing it over. 

Ian smiles as he sucks the sweet smoke into his lungs.Mickey never shares, with anyone, especially not his weed.He knows this is an unspoken way for Mickey to show Ian his affection.Ian passes the joint back to Mickey, and say, “I brought something too.”

“You knick some beer from the store?” Mickey asks, gesturing at Ian’s backpack.“Such a rebel.”

“No.Well, actually, yeah, I did bring a six pack. That I paid for. But I’ve got something else, too.You got your switchblade?”

Mickey hands the knife over, doing his best to appear uninterested.Ian starts up a running commentary while he works.“Our Grammy’s back. Showed up today at the house in an ambulance.No one even knew she was coming.”

“Oh, yeah?She sick or something?”

“Dunno.She wasn’t supposed to get out for a while.”

“Get out?Like, from the hospital?”

“No, prison,” Ian says.“She had a meth lab.A couple of people died in the explosion.”

“Your grandmother had a fucking meth lab?” Mickey asks with an incredulous chuckle.

“Frank’s mother,” Ian says by way of explanation.He turns towards Mickey, who is lounging back on his elbows on the tabletop.His words die in his mouth as he takes in the pale stretch of Mickey’s neck, the slow bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows.Mickey looks beautiful in the moonlight, like a renaissance sculpture crafted exclusively for Ian.

“Uh...here,” Ian stutters, shoving his hand towards Mickey.

“The fuck is this?”

Ian had been so proud of himself back at the Kash and Grab when he came up with the idea.Now he feels foolish and exposed, and he kinda wants to stand up and run away.But he plows ahead, because Mickey deserves this.“It’s watermelon, dummy.”

Ian expects Mickey to grab the offered slice with his hand, but instead he leans up and chomps a bite with his mouth while staying stretched out of the table.“Mmmm, that’s good Firecrotch.”

  
Mickey’s teasing words and tone make Ian feel all tingly and light headed. He likes Mickey like this; playful, almost flirty, and comfortable in his own skin. Showing Ian his softer side. 

  
There’s a small dribble of juice on the corner of Mickey’s mouth, and it takes all of Ian’s willpower not to crash on top of the other boy and lick it off, sweep his tongue across Mickey’s lips and into his mouth, suck on Mickey’s tongue until they are both gasping for air. As Ian stares, Mickey’s tongue snakes out, licks the corner of his mouth, then travels around his lips.

Ian crams the remaining bit of watermelon into his own mouth before picking up another piece and holding it out to Mickey.“Want more?”

Mickey nods, grabs onto Ian’s wrist, and pulls the watermelon into his mouth from Ian’s fingers.He’s got this satisfied smirk on his face while he chews, eyes locked on Ian’s.Then Mickey leans forward and licks up the back of Ian’s hand, catching the runny juice on his tongue.

“Holy fuck,” Ian whispers.This seems to spur Mickey on, because the next thing he knows, Mickey has two of Ian’s fingers in his mouth, his hand still clutching Ian’s wrist in a tight grip.He alternates between sucking hard and curling his tongue around and between Ian’s sticky fingers.He glances at Ian, blue eyes heated and a little uncertain, and Ian lets out a lust-filled moan.It’s fucking intoxicating, watching Mickey Milkovich work his fingers with his perfect mouth and plump lips. 

Ian’s fucked him, dozens of times since their first hookup.He’s fingered Mickey’s hole and sucked his cock and filled his ass with his dick, yet for some reason, this act is different, somehow more intimate and exciting.Maybe it’s because Mickey’s taking charge, in a way he hasn’t since the first time that they fucked, in his bedroom in the Milkovich house.Ian’s used to Mickey making demands, but it’s always Ian that touches Mickey first, that bends the other boy over, moves him into position.Tonight it’s all Mickey, and Ian is content to just sit back and see where it leads.

Eventually Mickey loses steam, and seems at a loss for what to do.He lets Ian’s fingers fall from his mouth, and he averts his gaze, rubbing the side of his nose nervously.Ian reaches back, grabs a small bite of watermelon, and holds it up in front of Mickey’s lips.One corner of Mickey’s mouth turns up before he surges forward and swallows down Ian’s thumb and finger, all the way to the knuckles.Ian can feel the fruit being crushed between his digits as Mickey sucks with renewed enthusiasm.Ian drops his free hand to his crotch, letting out a low moan as he palms himself over the top of his jeans. 

Mickey pops off Ian’s fingers, and says with a smirk, “fruit really does it for you, huh Gallagher?”

“You do it for me,” Ian replies before he can reign himself in.The smirk on Mickey’s face widens, so Ian takes another chance and grabs Mickey’s hand, bringing it to rest on his straining dick. 

“You ready to get on me?” Mickey asks, voice low and gravely.

“Ungh...no-ooo,” Ian groans, thrusting his hips into the pressure of Mickey’s hand.He’s not even stroking Ian’s dick, just holding it with the slightest pressure, but it’s still getting Ian there pretty damn fast.“Fuck, that’s good.”

“You really getting off on me cupping your junk?” Mickey asks.

“Yeah,” Ian admits, so turned on he’s beyond being embarrassed.“But I wouldn’t mind if you did something else with it.”

Mickey’s never really touched Ian’s dick before.Not in a way that could be classified as deliberate.He’s ground his ass and thigh into Ian’s groin.He’s grabbed Ian over his pants a time or two, like he’s testing the goods.But Mickey’s never actually taken Ian’s dick out and touched it with his hand, skin to skin. 

Ian knows Mickey has some messed up notions about being gay.Like taking it up the ass somehow makes him less queer than kissing another boy or touching his prick.And Ian accepts it, because he has to, if he wants to be with Mickey, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t hope for more.That he doesn’t LONG for more.

Ian’s whole body freezes in shock when Mickey pops the button on his jeans and pulls down the zipper.Mickey’s staring at Ian’s groin, biting his bottom lip, looking terrified and angry as fuck at the same time.Ian grips the back of Mickey’s head, thumbs the sensitive spot behind Mickey’s ear in a reassuring manner.“It’s ok, Mickey.Let’s fuck instead.”

Mickey leans over Ian’s body until his head hovers over Ian’s crotch.Mickey looks up at him, and Ian sees that the look in his eye he took to be anger is actually determination.“Feed it to me,” Mickey chokes out.He looks back down to where Ian’s jeans are undone.“Take it out and fucking feed it to me.”

Ian scrambles to obey, sitting up and kicking his jeans and boxers down around his ankles.Mickey pushes off the table, falls onto his knees in front of Ian.Ian knows better than to ask Mickey if he’s sure.He just grabs the base of his dick and moves it towards Mickey’s mouth.He swipes the head over Mickey’s lips for a moment before the other boy opens up, and Ian’s sliding his dick slowly into Mickey Milkovich’s dirty mouth. 

Mickey closes his lips around him, sucking on Ian’s cock with the same fervour he showed his fingers.His tongue moves steadily on the underside of Ian’s dick as he sucks.Ian keeps one hand on the base of his dick as the other hand moves to Mickey’s head, fingers weaving through his hair.“Yeah, Mick.That’s...uhhhh...that’s fucking perfect.”

And it is fucking perfect; Mickey looks perfect, lips stretched wide and plump around Ian’s dick, drool forming in the corners of his mouth.Ian thrusts forward, just a tiny bit, and Mickey moans around his cock.They get a steady rhythm going, Mickey sucking and flicking his tongue, Ian feeding Mickey his cock in short strokes.Ian’s orgasm hits with little warning, just enough time for Ian to stutter, “fuck, gonna come.”

Mickey pulls off quickly, sputtering and choking a bit.“Jesus, Gallagher,” Mickey says, looking at Ian with wide eyes. 

Ian yanks Mickey to his feet and dives at him, licking a streak of come from the other boy’s cheek.“Fucking gross,” Mickey grumbles.He pushes his erection into Ian’s thigh as he says, “you’re an animal, you know that, right?”

“You like it,” Ian replies, blissed out.He drops his hand to Mickey’s fly, pulling out his cock in record time.It only takes a few minutes before Mickey is spilling onto the ground between Ian’s fingers.

Mickey stumbles back to the picnic table as he shoves his dick back into his pants, and flops onto the table top.Ian sits at the bench next to him, grabs the watermelon he had cut earlier, and says, “hungry for more?”

Mickey opens an eye and cocks his eyebrows at Ian.“You’re such a fucking nerd,” he says affectionately. 

Later, as they are walking home, Ian passes Mickey the rest of the watermelon.Mickey takes it silently.They are quiet as they stroll, just the sounds of the neighbourhood settling over them as they walk side by side, letting their shoulders rub together every now and then.

“Make sure Mandy gets some,” Ian says, when they come to the point where they need to part ways.

“Nah,” Mickey says, an unusually shy smile on his face, “this is all for me.I’m not fucking sharing something this good.”He fixes Ian with one last lingering look before striding off towards his house.

_Please, let him not be talking about the fucking watermelon_ , Ian thinks, as he carries on to his own house with a huge smile on his face and a spring in his step.


End file.
